


I've Never Had Someone (Who Knows Me Like You Do)

by TemporalRanger (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TemporalRanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean refuses to focus on the task at hand; Cas has a way to make him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Never Had Someone (Who Knows Me Like You Do)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Disney's High School Musical song _What I've Been Looking For_. Written for [](http://amor-remanet.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://amor-remanet.livejournal.com/)**amor_remanet** as a belated V-day turned on time B-day present, for the prompt "Dean/Cas - running lines for the school play."
> 
> For the "students" square on my ~au_bingocard, and the "High School/College AU", "Contemporary AU", and "Now You're Just Being Silly" squares on my [](http://fanbingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://fanbingo.dreamwidth.org/)**fanbingo** card.

"No, no, I'm not afraid. I'm just... scared." Dean frowns, waving the script at Cas irritably. "Seriously? _Seriously?_ C'mon Cas, this is… crap. _Why_ are we doing this again?"

Cas _sighs_ , that irritable exhale of air that he _always_ seems to save _just_ to bestow on Dean, and straightens from his round-shouldered slouch against the cushions.

"Because, Dean, you happen to _need_ the creative arts credits to graduate, and I happen to enjoy the performing arts, so if we could _please_ get through this scene before dinner, I would appreciate it."

Dean waves the script in Cas' direction again before replying, in some fruitless attempt to demonstrate exactly how terrible it is.

"But- we were supposed to be doing like… Shakespeare! Or History Boys or like… something other than High School Musical. Y'know, anything that doesn't require me to be a… a… a _fricking Disney Princess._ "

Cas sighs again, stretching tiredly, and Dean's distracted, for a moment, by the band of pale belly that's revealed when Cas' white starched shirt pulls free, the line of a hip visible where Cas' uniform pants have ridden down low over the past hour or so, the slight hint of muscles under the skin – not enough to be called abs, but enough to be firm to the touch, Dean thinks…

"Troy is the _male_ lead, Dean. At least _you_ don't need to shave your legs for the part."

Dean frowns, again, catches his gaze wandering down to Cas' calves, trying to peer through the fabric to the skin beneath. Drags it back up again before Cas can notice, can wonder why Dean's staring at his pants. Cas is head tilting at him though, faint furrow between his brows as he stares at Dean, that deep, level stare that always makes Dean feel like he's naked and self-conscious, like maybe Cas has developed telepathic powers like Dr X and is reading all Dean's secrets.

Dean's flushing; he _knows_ he is, can feel the hot burn of embarrassment creeping up the back of his neck, burning his cheeks, and hurriedly changes the subject.

"Man, you really need to complain about how Pervazar keeps making you a girl every year - that's gotta be... Harassment or something."

Cas sighs, again, the one that says _he's running out of patience, Dean Winchester_ , and drops his head back against the couch cushions. Dean tries not to stare at the stretch of neck revealed this way (unsuccessfully).

"We're an _all boys_ school, Dean. _Someone_ has to play the female roles."

"Yeah, but the only reason you get stuck with it each year is because Pervazar has a hard on for you in a skirt! I mean, c'mon, Cas, it's not like Freshman Year when your voice hadn't broken yet or anything… You don't _sound_ like a girl anymore!"

"If you are attempting to imply that I am incapable of the role I have been assigned-"

"What? No! Dude, I'm just saying you shouldn't _have_ to dress up like a girl every year. And specially not just cause you're hot and some old teacher dude is a pedo!"

…Fuck. Okay, later? Dean and his mouth are going to have _words_.

The flash of something in Cas' eye and the hard jut his jaw takes on suggests that Dean may not survive long enough to get the opportunity, and fuckfuck _fuck_ , Dean really needs to find a way to go back in time and _not_ stupidly tell his best (only) friend he's hot, cause his life is going to _suck_ if this is finally the straw that breaks Cas' putting-up-with-Dean-fucking-Winchester patience.

He manages a smile, hopefully not as sickly worried and wavery as it feels, and attempts to amend a "…no homo?" to his previous statement. He has a feeling it's not really covering anything that's going on at the moment though, like the statement sort of gave up the ghost and died the moment he signed himself up to be Zach Fucking Efron.

Cas' jaw tightens further, blue eyes glaring at Dean from under a fringe of dark lashes he probably shouldn't be noticing right at the moment, and yeah, ok, _no homo_ ain't doing shit at the moment. And for a moment Dean thinks Cas is maybe going to hit him or throw him out or give him the cold, scary voice that he uses instead of yelling, because Cas _hates_ yelling, but then Cas' fingers close over the knot of Dean's tie and _yank_ , and his mouth is hot and hard and _blinding_ on Dean's for a moment, kissing _hard_ and deep and insistent.

For a moment, just a moment, it's teeth grazing Dean's lip and catching, tugging, before a tongue laves over the mark and Dean's vaguely aware that he makes a soft, broken noise as he kisses back, gets a hand in Cas' hai-

And then Cas is just _gone_ , calmly back on his own end of the couch, back against the armrest and feet in a tangle with Dean's in the middle like he'd never moved, except Dean's lips tastes like the Coke flavoured Lipsmacker Cas uses and are still kinds stinging from the bite, so.

Dean opens his mouth to ask what the _fuck_ just happened, and if they can do it again, and if the doing it again can be _now_ , but Cas just raises an eyebrow and says "Shut up, Dean" kind of exasperatedly.

Dean shuts up. And leans forward to initiate another kiss, because yeah, Cas is right, there's better things to do with their mouths.

Cas' hand braced against his chest stops him though, and the fondly irritated sigh as he pushes Dean back to his own side of the couch. His toes brush gently, deliberately, against Dean's ankle for a moment though, sends a shiver up Dean's back, and the stern look on Cas' face is sort of spoiled by the faint hint of an affectionate smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, the sting taken out of the chastisement.

"Not until we finish this scene, Dean."

He sighs, flopping back against the cushions he'd poached from the armchair, and pushes his foot back against Cas', dragging his socked toes against the back of Cas' as he mumbles "You're bossy" under his breath and reclaims his script from the floor.

Cas' soft huff of near-silent amusement probably means it wasn't as under-his-breath as he'd hoped, though, and the faint, smug smile on his lips is really, _really_ making Dean determined to just get this stupid thing over and done with.

After all, there were  _much_ better uses for their mouths.


End file.
